The Alphabet Drabbles
by tartan-angel
Summary: As the name suggests, this will spawn into a series of 26 one hundred*ish*  word drabbles, based on the letters of the alphabet. An ADMM sprinkling accompanies it for good measure.
1. A is for alphabet

"A. B. C. D. E. F. G. H." Albus Dumbledore was reciting the alphabet while lounging on a comfortable purple chaise longue with his wife.

"Albus, why are you reciting the alphabet?"

"I. K. L… no, wait… I forgot J! I. J. K. L. M." His fingers wound enticingly into Minerva's hair.

"Albus, why are you reciting the alphabet," she repeated, adding curiously, "_and_ getting it wrong?"

"I am simply whiling away the time, dear."

"Whatever for?"

"Well, I need something to do until the next time I am permitted to kiss you."

"You don't need permission," she replied, the ghost of a smile haunting her face as she turned to capture his lips with hers.

* * *

><p><em>AN: This is, according to Microsoft, exactly 100 words long (not counting Albus' letter reciting)._


	2. B is for bumble bee

_Buzz_. That incessant buzzing! Minerva swatted at the empty air around her, much to the amusement of Mr. Dumbledore.

"Don't just sit there laughing, Albus! Help me get rid of the blasted thing!"

Albus remained focussed on his newspaper. "I'm sorry, dear; I just don't seem able to dissuade it."

"Fine," Minerva added threateningly, "then I shall just have to deal with this myself!" Albus watched wearily as she transfigured his newspaper into a fly-swatter and plucked it from him. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

"Are you aware that you are looking for a bee, not a fly?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Gosh, it's difficult to keep to one just hundred words! I just want to keep writing and writing and writing (and rambling, so it seems)._


	3. C is for candy

"WHERE _ARE _THEY?"

"I don't know what you are talking about, dear." Minerva looked up at him with the childlike innocence he usually adopted for his own features.

"You know exactly what I mean!" Albus was getting hysterical now. He knew she had taken them and he was determined to get them back. Still she wore that false innocence. He could stare straight through it as though it were glass, but it still got his pulse rushing. His face was becoming increasingly flushed as the time passed.

Withdrawal was setting in.

"What have you _done_ with my lemon drops, Minerva?"


	4. D is for Dumbles

"Stop calling me that, you nitwit!"

"I rather like it, _my dear_," he said, placing particular emphasis on the nickname that she despised.

"Why do you insist on getting on my nerves?" she screeched, hair falling away from its normal confines, cheeks flushing a most becoming shade of rosy pink.

"I apologize. You just look so ravishing when you are angry." Before her protests could burst from her mouth, the Headmaster captured his deputy's lips in his. Unexpected. Devoid of all thought. Stupid. Potentially dangerous. Plus, she didn't respond.

"Perhaps I should call you 'Dumbles'." Finally, she kissed him back.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So, what do you think so far?_


	5. E is for Elves

Hogwarts seemed to have been suffering from a severe bout of hypothermia recently, which was not wholly unexpected in the Scottish winter. The summer was cold enough! In light of this, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were huddled together in the warmest place on the premises; the kitchens.

Clutching his cocoa mug as if it were the only thing keeping him afloat in the ocean, Albus stared into Minerva's eyes.

He did not register her mirroring him. Nor the fact that they leaning towards each other. Nor the quiet footsteps behind him. When their lips met fiercely, all he knew was that his heart was melting.

There was a yelp behind them and a rough scuttling sound.

"Is it immoral to _obliviate _a House Elf?" Minerva pondered.

"Most probably."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I admit, this one is a little over one hundred words but I could not bring myself to cut it any further. Please forgive me!_


	6. F is for Flowers

Minerva was now smiling uncontrollably. The Firsties that had just entered the classroom were understandably more terrified than usual. If they had been any older, they would have started asking awkward questions and Minerva would have to snap something sarcastic at them. She hated doing that to first-years… even when they deserved it.

In fact, she smiled for almost the entire lesson. The entire day, even. Some were suspicious, some scared, others speculative over what had caused this ever-lasting grin.

Still, nobody paid any more notice than was due the vase of violets sitting on the corner of her desk.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Guess who sent her those._


	7. G is for Gloves

_A/N: It is this chapter's fault that I upped the rating on this story! I hope you're all enjoying it, though. More to come soon!_

* * *

><p>Minerva groaned audibly as a willing pair of lips trailed along her collarbone. All of a sudden, Albus's hands were working on the zip of her dress and she momentarily lost her senses. He made light work of her underwear while she pushed her lips against his, searching his open mouth with her tongue. She began to slowly peel the red leather gloves from her hands.<p>

Suddenly, a hand was on her wrist and a low, raspy voice tickled her ear.

"No. Leave the gloves on."


	8. H is for Harmonies

_That infuriating song! _Albus was singing it for what must have been the twentieth time that day. Why is it that the most annoying songs were always the ones that clung to your brain like the remains of a toffee? _Resist it. _But the urge was unbearably strong.

Who on earth can refuse a classic show tune?

She simply could not help it. Minerva's soul was just longing to sing along. Her vocal chords were going to burst if she did not join in.

The harmonies of the Headmaster and his Deputy were to be heard throughout Hogwarts that day.


	9. I is for Ice Cream

The sweet, refreshing taste of the cold treat delighted Albus's taste buds. The enticing scent of strawberries would be with him long after the last trace had been removed from the waffle cone.

However, he soon found that something was distracting his mind from his appreciation of his newest sweet treat. After a swift scan of the room, he noticed Minerva giggling softly at the entrance to his office.

"What are you finding quite so entertaining, my dear?" he asked cheerfully. Between chuckles, she gasped for breath and responded with a choked voice.

"You have ice cream in your beard."


	10. J is for Jar

He was two seconds away from a wonderful supper of blackberry jam on toast. However, as was the fashion at Hogwarts (and, indeed, in life), there was inevitably something to impede him.

Albus twisted the lid this way and that, pushing until his knuckles were white, his fingertips a scarlet hue. The House Elves had long since retired to bed to prepare themsleves for their next day of almost-continuous cooking.

As if sent by angels, the staccato footsteps of another person advancing towards him sounded out.

"Need some help?"

Minerva pointed her wand at the jar. The lid popped open.


	11. K is for Kilt

"I refuse," Albus declared sullenly.

Minerva sighed in frustration. He rarely ever refused her requests, but she had known from the off that she would have trouble convincing him to agree to this particular one.

"Please, Albus? For me?" She was playing dirty and he knew it. They were both well aware that Albus was unable to resist that uncharacteristic pout. On this occasion, he would gather all of the willpower he possessed.

"No, Minerva. I am sorry."

"But… it's tradition."

"Minerva, I absolutely refuse to wear a kilt in public!"

"Please?" She batted her long-lashed eyelids at him.

"Fine."


	12. L is for Luck

T'was the day of the Quidditch Final match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and Minerva McGonagall was hell-bent on winning, if only for the pride and bragging rights.

Albus often found great use for his ability of springing up out of nowhere, this being one. Before Minerva could say "_Gryffindor for the win_", Albus had wrapped his red and gold scarf around his neck and his arms around her waist.

Lips met in sweet kisses that rapidly increased in intensity and ended only once both were overwhelmed by the dizziness attributed to lack of oxygen.

"What was that for?"

"For luck."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Albus is too sweet. I want one._


	13. M is for Marauders

If she was honest, she found some of their practical jokes quite humorous. Merlin, she had even spurred them on before now. This, she supposed was payback. Not that she was one to believe in divine retribution, mind you.

As she traipsed through the corridors, leaving a mess that would leave Filch irate for weeks, she found herself wondering what she had done to deserve such a cruel trick. However, she had not reached a conclusion by the time she reached her refuge.

Twinkling eyes. Friendly face.

"Why ever are you covered in honey and feathers?"

"Potter. Black. Lupin. Pettigrew."


	14. N is for News

"Albus, have you seen this?" The newspaper Minerva slammed on the desk bore the face of a worse-for-wear man in the impenetrable fortress of Azkaban.

His voice, oddly restricted forced him to reply only with a nod.

"Is it true? Sirius… did he…?" The remainder of her words were left unspoken – but not unknown – as she was possessed by a severe set of racking sobs.

"I just cannot believe it... I won't believe it of him... I don't understand!"

No longer able to watch the anguish on her face, Albus drew her closer to him and rested his chin atop her head.

"I know, dear. I know."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I sincerely apologize for the angst in this chapter, but next time happiness will return!_


	15. O is for Owls

The familiar flapping of wings filled the Great Hall on a sunny Sunday morning. The barrage of owls was a wondrous spectacle, Minerva had always felt. However, her admirations were cut short by the sudden weight deposited in her lap.

A magnificent tawny owl clucked appreciatively as the Transfiguration Professor offered it a piece of bacon. A flash of feathers and it was gone.

Turning her attention to the brown box in her lap, Minerva noted Albus smiling intently in her peripheral vision.

The look of shock etched on her features was treasured for weeks afterwards, especially by Albus Dumbledore, who, later that day, received a sound ear-bashing.

"You do not send me lingerie in front of the children!"

* * *

><p><em>AN: You see, there is post on Sundays (And it is unashamedly longer than 100 words)!_


	16. P is for Poltergeist

"Morning, Professorheads!" Peeves' cackles elicited an aggravated groan from Minerva, which, in turn, coaxed a gentle chuckle from Albus.

Until this interruption, they had been happily walking towards the Great Hall for dinner. Now, it seemed, their journey was to be delayed.

"Thank you, Peeves," said Minerva. "That will be quite enough."

"What's the matter, Professorhead? Did Dumbly forget to smooch you today?" he grinned menacingly.

"Peeves, I'm warning you!"

"Minnie and Dumbles sitting in a tree –"

"PEEVES! Get out of my sight before I get the Bloody Baron to tear you limb from limb."

Albus could only chuckle.


	17. Q is for Quill

Whizzing and whirring filled the office as usual, but today another sound mingled into the mixture.

Minerva and Albus were seated on opposite sides of the sturdy wooden desk and the latter was scribbling furiously, his quill racing across the parchment at impossible speeds. The scratching of his quill was beginning to aggravate Minerva. She looked up from her own paperwork.

"I know that you are annoyed by the Minister's constant demands, but do try not to push the quill through your desk, dear."

"Are you trying to wrench me away from my work, Professor McGonagall?"

"Perhaps," she smiled wryly.


	18. R is for Rain

_A/N: This is for Hogwarts Duo. :)_

* * *

><p>The sky shed its tears willingly, leaving them to meander down to earth hindered only by the slate roves and ancient windows.<p>

With the approach of his wife, Albus wrenched his eyes away from the rain trickling down the windowpanes. Her arms were laden with blankets and books and, floating along behind her, two glorious mugs of cocoa. The smell was unmistakeable.

A swish of her wand and a soft melody was emanating from the walls.

What a wonderful way to spend a rainy afternoon: in the company of symphonies, novels and chocolate, and snuggling under blankets with your love.


	19. S is for Surprise

The gargoyle slid away, the door crept open, the dark was all-consuming. Even Albus's various knick knacks seemed to have been silenced as the cold absence of movement – of _anything_ – hung deftly in the air.

Something has happened.

Something was oh so very wrong. That was the single coherent thought that he could pass through his considerable mind.

She was usually here by now.

_Usually._ The single word reminded him that these times were far from usual.

Suddenly, hands covered his eyes, thrusting him further into darkness (if that were possible). A softly-trained lilt tickled his ears.

"Surprise, my love."


	20. T is for Thursdays

_A/N: This one is for BeMMADFabulous. :)_

* * *

><p>The tray would be waiting for her upon her arrival, as usual, laden with a selection of biscuits. Nestled between them would be her favourite porcelain cup and saucer. The delicious scent of brewing tea would mingle with the sweet cocoa smell and it would seared into her olfactory memory for quite some time.<p>

The pieces would be lined up, waiting solemnly to enter into battle. And what a fierce battle it would be! Not fierce in the feral, attacking manner, but in that they would painstakingly plan their moves to attack in the most unexpected manners to cause the most devastating damage.

Even the pieces would begin to sweat.

Afterwards, they would carry the battle to the bedroom and another predictable Thursday afternoon would be brought to a close.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yes, I know I'm going over the word limit, but I just could not bring myself to cut anything out here. I apologize._


	21. U is for Ugliness

_A/N: Okay, I am not sure if this one entirely makes sense, but I wanted to do something different for U because otherwise I would have chosen 'U is for Umbridge'. But I feel like I do too much Umbridge-bashing than is entirely healthy for my sanity._

* * *

><p>She was a creature of such unutterable beauty. Not a beauty that forced itself upon the beholder, but a subtle, untainted presence that would slowly diffuse into the air with each graceful, measured step.<p>

Unfortunately, she had never seen herself in this way. Every morning she would sit before the mirror, inwardly criticizing every defect that she thought she possessed. It was the only time he would ever consider her ugly; when she found invisible faults in herself.

It broke his heart.

Of course, none of his protests would convince her that she was incapable of true ugliness. But he would continue to protest until the day he died.


	22. V is for Vampire

The familiar warmth spreading through her very being. The inevitable loss of all coherent thought. The inability to form any real words. It was all made worth it for the simple pleasure of those soft lips against her neck.

Then, something unexpected; a nipping of teeth upon the soft skin just above her collarbone that caused her to inhale sharply. _Though,_ she thought, _that was likely to do anything other than turn him off._

"What are you, a vampire?"

Albus paused only long enough to retort quickly.

"Well, if your neck wasn't so deliciously scented, we wouldn't have this problem."


	23. W is for Weasleys

Another year, another Weasley. _My, my, Molly and Arthur have been busy_. She thought the same thing every year and still was never surprised to hear the hat declare another Gryffindor had been found under that mop of unmistakeable red hair.

"Are you pleased with the new additions to your House this year, my dear?" Albus smiled at her, his eyes sparkling over the rims of his half-moon spectacles.

"How can I not be? My only hope is that little Ginevra does not inherit the twins' proclivity for mischief."

"Why would you say that? I thought you rather enjoyed their practical jokes."

"Because I found a plastic mouse in my tea cup this evening."


	24. X is for Xray Vision

An inexplicable shiver ran down her spine as he fixed her with those intoxicatingly blue eyes. Clear like the ocean and deep as the skies. _Stop it, Minerva, _she scolded herself, _you are bordering on tacky._

Oh, but they were looking straight through her.

Ever since her first day of Hogwarts, Minerva had found those whirlpools fascinating. The way they twinkled in even the lowest lights, so expressive of the childlike joy he carried so close to his heart. Whenever the twinkle was gone, Minerva died a little inside. If he had lost hope, what was there for the rest of them?

They were looking straight through her.

What was that thing the Muggles thought up? Like Alastor's magical eye? X-ray vision?

Albus had it, she was sure.


	25. Y is for Yellow

"It's…" Minerva McGonagall could not find the words to describe the sight that fell upon her eyes.

"Amazing? Fabulous? Perfect? Magnificent? Resplendent?" Albus suggested in a voice that seemed to be peppered with an odd need for approval that Minerva had never heard him use before. How could he, the most famous wizard of the _century _stand before her and ask for _her_ approval? Although, he certainly had startled her.

Minerva's eyes had diverted quickly from his new cloak to the floor, for fear of burning a hole in her retina. Coherent words struggled to form on her tongue.

"Yellow."

* * *

><p><em>AN: So, we are approaching the end of the alphabet, dear readers. I would like to take this opportunity to thank all those who have graciously read and reviewed; you make writing such a joy. Now, once I stop being soppy, z should be up soon._


	26. Z is for Zither

_A/N: This is the end, my dears. I feel an unexpected sadness as I bring this story to a close, but I still hope that it can continue to make people smile long after its completion. To reflect this, chapter z is three times as long as the others :)_

* * *

><p>The sweet sound of the strings dripped from small wooden instrument in her hands. Her fingers moved deftly over the stiff, wiry strings.<p>

It had been a gift many, many years ago. When Albus had first presented his then fiancée with the present, she had questioned his sanity. After almost an hour of explanations as to its origins and uses, Minerva had finally attempted to play the exotic instrument known as a zither. She was terrible, but Albus did not seem to mind.

The recollection brought a warm smile to her lips.

Thankfully, in the years that followed, Minerva had gained enough practice with the little zither to be able to get a decent melody out of it. It had become something of a source of comfort to her in times of unrest or sadness. Her mind led her back to a memorable night when she had used its odd twangs to calm her younger cubs on a particularly stormy night.

_Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell,  
>Angus is here with dreams to sell.<br>Hush now wee bairnie and sleep without fear,  
>For Angus will bring you a dream, my dear.<em>

The traditional Scottish lullaby had seemed to have a calming effect on the young Gryffindors and they had eventually fallen asleep in the Common Room. Normally she would have moved them to their respective dormitories, but that night she settled instead for conjuring each of them blankets and cushions, not wanting to wake them. Still, she did not leave until each and every one was suitably covered.

A familiar voice sounded out behind her to pull her from her reverie.

"You still play it?"

Minerva swivelled around in her chair and, as her eyes fell upon the gold-framed portrait, she felt untamed sobs threaten to take over.

"_Always_."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yes, I stole Severus's line. I admit it! But it is such a brilliant closing line that I could not resist using it._


End file.
